


Where The Wild Things Are

by I_just_want_to_read_and_write



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tarzan Fusion, Auguste (Captive Prince) Lives, Fluff and Crack, M/M, Past Child Abuse, tarzan au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-20 11:52:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16136660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_just_want_to_read_and_write/pseuds/I_just_want_to_read_and_write
Summary: Basically a Tarzan AU no body asked for but I'm delivering anyway.Damen as Tarzan, Laurent as Jane and Regent as the evil guy.Also Ausguste lives, so whats not to like?





	1. Chapter One

Laurent had long since given up in asking Aimeric and Jord to stop with their incessant flirting and actually watch the jungle for whatever may or may not jump out to eat them.

As it was, Laurent could already hear the telltale signs of a territorial gorilla about to attack him for being in it’s nest.

Laurent supposed it was a fitting end to this shitty life, in the middle of a jungle he shouldn’t even be in, beaten to death by an angry gorilla whilst those two love struck idiots failed to notice, too caught up staring into one another's eyes.

He couldn’t help but think of Auguste killing them when they returned sans his baby brother. It was a happy thought.

The foliage on his left rustled. Then on his right. Laurent stood very still, trying to look as unthreatening as possible; not that it was very hard, he was only 5’11” and weighted a hundred and twenty pounds soaking wet. He felt a breath of warm air on his nape and cursed Jord for being a complete imbecile when pretty boys gave him attention. Laurent should’ve known this would happen when he set out to take specimens of the fluana so far away from camp, with only them to guard him. Then again the other option was Pallas and Lazar, so what was the point in having a guard at all.

The trees rustled again and a pair of dark eyes peered out at him.

Laurent frowned, thinking that the eyes didn’t look like that of an animal.

It stepped forward, the trees melting away from its body and-

“My goodness…” Laurent breathed.

It wasn’t an animal at all, but a very large, very naked man.

He had matted dark curls atop of his head, leading to a thick beard that hadn’t been cared for. His body was wired with thick muscles and dark skin with scars that looked like bite and claw marks. It was as if he had grown up all his life in the wild. He was… magnificent.

From a scientific standpoint, of course.

The man stepped further toward Laurent, brow frowning in confusion. Suddenly Laurent is bombarded with the man-the very naked man- pressed up against his body and sniffing his face. Laurent flinched back, only to be hauled forward again in some strange parody of a hug, where the man was tugging experimentally at his clothes like he’d never seen them up close before and taking deep breaths into his neck.

It occured to Laurent that maybe he hadn’t. That, perhaps, he had grown up in the jungle all by himself. Laurent thought of the wild animals and the tribes that hunt them, the settlers that were using guns on anyone and everyone and using explosives to get to the diamonds. He decided it wasn’t possible for the man to have survived by himself.

Laurent looked at what looked like a large tiger bite on the man’s shoulder and doubted himself.

The man grunted, looking expectantly at Laurent, as if he should know what “ooug” means.

“Hello, there,” Laurent said, gently and cautiously put a hand on the man’s- impressive- bicep.

Laurent saw Aimeric and Jord look over at his words and their faces were so comical he would have laughed, had he not been in the arms of someone who may not be a gorilla but could still snap him like a twig.

The man grunted again and began to slither down Laurents body, pressing his nose first to his armpit and then to his navel. Laurent tried to ignore that one of the man's hands was firmly planted on his ass to hold him still and spoke to Jord.

“Thank you for finally paying attention,” he spoke only loud enough to reach them over the clearing, “Be very still and quiet. I don’t think he has noticed you yet and it might spook him.” Jord’s mouth opened like he wanted to object but shut it after a dark look from Laurent. Aimeric looked ready to pass out and his hand hovered over his gun. Just as Laurent was about to tell him not to be an idiot, the man wrapped around him grunted again, in confusion and frustration, and pressed his face against his crotch. “Hey, stop that!” Laurent reprimanded, squirming away.

The man frowned at Laurent like his was annoyed and tried again. The gall of some people, seriously.

Laurent squatted him on the ear, which earned him another annoyed grunt, and pushed him away, which earned his a set of puppy eyes that made his heart clench. Laurent wasn’t about to change his mind though.

“Off,” Laurent tried to sound commanding and not at all breathless, “Get off, will you?”

The wild man pouted but seemed to get the message, standing up and- and shuffling back into Laurent’s space, tugging his braid over his shoulder and frowning at it. Laurent sighed. At least this was a more respectable position, if not by much.

Laurent looked over the man’s shoulder as he bent to smell his hair, seeing Jord who looked like he’d swallowed his tongue and Aimeric who held his rifle unsteadily. Laurent shook his head at them, trying to express “Don’t do anything stupid, he’s confused, not attacking”. By the way their expression didn’t change, Laurent figured they were too brain dead to understand. He doesn't know why he's surprised.

The man tugged at little too hard at his braid. “Ouch!” Laurent snapped, quickly getting frustrated at being poked and prodded at. The man had quickly let of of the braid and looked to Laurent’s face when Aimeric’s gun went off, making them both jump a foot in the air and Laurent say a word that a noble man should never say.

Just as quickly, the wild man took off into the jungle and vanished.

Laurent turned around and scowled at them, “Damn it, Aimeric! Why did you do that?”

“That thing was attacking you! I saved you!” Aimeric cried defensively, practically swooning in Jord’s concerned arms.

Laurent didn’t deign that with a response, rolling his eyes at the massive hole Aimeric had put in the tree beside Laurent’s head. It was such a poor shot Laurent considered that perhaps his Uncle had requested he come along on their trip, hoping that his clumsiness would create a fatal accident.

“I think it’s time we went back to camp, My Lord. It isn’t safe here,” Jord was practically holding Aimeric up by now and Laurent decided he best he go back to his brother before he got so frustrated that he killed them. 

He picked up his bag full of specimens, and with a last searching look to where the wild man had disappeared, Laurent marched back to camp.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one took a bit of a dark turn, kind of got away from me a little. Whoops.  
> Trigger warning, there is reference to the Regent and all the vileness he stands for so read with caution.  
> Also, apologies to anyone who actually likes Aimeric. I get it, he's not the bad guy but he made Laurent sad and no one makes my baby sad.  
> In light of that, I hope you enjoy reading!

There was a lot of confusion when they finally arrived at camp, primarily because of Aimeric shouting about a half man half beast attacking them.

The scientists froze like scared deer, glancing around nervously like this horrid creature was about to spring out and eat them alive. The guards, trigger happy as they ever were, frantically loaded their rifles and makes lots of noise about moving to a more secure location, as if there was any place safe in the Amazon. The tribe members, that were assisting them in traveling in the jungle, paled most interestingly, like Aimeric had confirmed that the Boogie Man was indeed real.

Laurent considered the merits of tying Aimeric up and seeing which carnivorous animal ate him first. For science, of course.

Perhaps seeing the look in Laurent’s eyes, Jord gently guided Aimeric to his tent, quickly assuring the group that they needn’t worry, just a native that got a bit too close. Laurent could hear Aimeric telling him how scared he was as the tent flap closed behind them.

“Are you okay?” Laurent turned to see Auguste's concerned eyes checking him over. He leaned into his brothers side in a half hug before guiding him over to his own tent.

“I’m fine, don’t believe that halfwit,” Laurent replied, ignoring his brother’s half-hearted noise of complaint on Aimeric’s behalf, “I have interesting news though.”

 

After his discussion with his brother, Laurent ate dinner alone in his tent, thinking over the encounter.

His brother, while concerned for Laurent’s safety, did not have as much interest for the mysterious wild man as Laurent did. Laurent wanted to pursue the man, find out where he came from and how he came to be… the way he was now. The was something enchanting about the way he moved, easy in his skin like an animal, unashamed of his nakedness. The thick cords of muscle that shifted in his torso and arms when he practically picked Laurent up and pressed him close.

The innocence in his eyes. Like the fact that Laurent hadn’t immediately attacked him somehow meant that he was safe to get as close as… well as close as he had gotten.

Laurent’s ears pricked at the sound of his name spoken just outside his tent, at the nightly campfire the others had their dinner at.

“He was actually… being very nice to the native,” Aimeric. The way he sneered the word native was enough to display his higher rank and naïveté. Only the truly stupid would insult those who are supposed to lead them unharmed through an environment where many “accidents” could happen. He could practically hear Nikandros’ teeth grinding from where he sat.

“Laurent? Nice?” asked someone, tone of voice questioning Aimeric’s sanity. Laurent could sympathise.

“Well,” Laurent could already tell he wouldn’t like what Aimeric was about to say, “Perhaps he has a very specific type.”

“I didn’t think he had a type at all,” jeered another man’s voice.

Laurent sighed to himself of the ridiculousness of men. It had become routine, almost, to hear such things and worse about his sex life or lack thereof. Apparently it was some unspoken tradition that once men travelled for a time without their wives, they would seek out each other. Anyone who had attempted to seek Laurent out during this trip was sharply reprimanded for the nerve and soon the whole camp had been warned off, either by Laurent himself or the rumour of him being a cold-hearted bitch. As rumours went, it was uninventive so Laurent didn’t let it bother him, no matter the worried looks Auguste would cast him.

Auguste just felt guilty. Worried that Laurent’s apparent disinterest in sex or romance was because of what their Uncle had done to him when Auguste had left when Laurent was thirteen to get his Doctorate in Animal Behaviour.

Laurent told him it wasn’t his fault. Neither of them knew of their Uncle’s nature when they were put into his custody after their parents passing. But Laurent was the one that was left vulnerable without his protector for years.

It was because of that that they were on this reckless mission. After Laurent had been cast from his Uncle’s bed, from his affections, for having the audacity of growing to be more than a little boy, Laurent realised how he’d been used. So after a burning hot bath to try and get the dirty feeling off of him and a tear soaked letter begging Auguste to come home, Laurent plotted his revenge.

His Uncle was a businessman and he gained most of his earnings from importing diamonds from the Amazon. Laurent set out to become a biologist and once he’d obtained that, he begged his brother to take him out to the jungle to gather the evidence of slavery and genocide of the natives, and the damage that was being done to the ecosystem by his Uncles company.

Laurent wanted to help these people who were so obviously outgunned and outwitted. He shuddered at the unnecessary force on the flora and fauna, destroying the food chain, driving species to the brink of extinction.

But more than that, he wanted to see his Uncle crumble.

 

That night when everyone had gone to bed, Laurent still couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned but everytime he closed his eyes, dark brown ones stared back.

Deciding that he wouldn’t be able to rest until he understood the mystery that was the wild man in the jungle, Laurent set out, in the light of the moon, and a torch, to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Leave a comment below if there is anything you want me to include in this fic and I'll do my best!


	3. Chapter Three

Laurent had barely made it out of the camp before a heavy arm draped over his shoulders and a “Where are you going?” was spoken in his ear.

Laurent gave a (very manly) shriek and elbowed his brother in the ribs.

“I need to take a leak,” he lied, “Is that okay with you?”

Auguste laughed, “Certainly. However, there are a great many hungry beasts out there at night so perhaps I’ll keep watch.” Auguste patted his rifle against his thigh and grinned wider when he saw Laurent’s annoyance. “Or perhaps… you want to be eaten by one of the beasts…”

Laurent’s cheeks flamed and he prayed that Auguste wouldn’t be able to tell in the dark. “Oh hush. You’ve been listening to the campfire gossip again it would seem.”

“Never,” Auguste denied, “Though I do not hear any refusals.”

“Ok, yes! I’m looking for the man!” Laurent’s cheeks grew brighter as he realised what he’d just implied. “For science! I’m just curious, okay?”

“Of course you are. You're still the same boy who completely dismantled mother’s expensive coo coo clock in the middle of the night, in spite of how much trouble it would land you in the morning, just to see how it worked,” Auguste remarked, rather gleefully. “I saw the look in your eyes tonight. I’m surprised it took you so long to sneak away. I was about to kiss the curious young Laurent goodbye and go to bed.”

“Wish you had,” Laurent mumbled, embarrassed at being called out for still being young in his whimsical ways. He probably would’ve lashed out if Auguste hadn’t seemed so delighted by it.

 

The two of them set out for the night and didn’t return until first light, Laurent grouchy at not finding the mystery man and Auguste shaken by a run in with a tiger. When Laurent asked why he’s making such a big deal about it, it was answered by an incredulous “It’s claws were this close to disembowelling you, Laurent, this close!”

Laurent had rolled his eyes but didn’t comment further. The large cat was simply protecting her cubs when Laurent had mistakenly walked too close to her den in the dark. He didn’t think Auguste could be reasoned with though.

Laurent perked up when he saw a familiar dark figure peeking out of the edges of the camp.

“Auguste, look!” Laurent pointed to where the wild man stood, facing away from them, looking as though he was searching for something.

Auguste looked him up and down. “My goodness,” he frowned, using a tone much different to that one Laurent had first used. Less awed and more… worried. Laurent tried to reassess the man from Ausguste’s perspective and understood. The wild man dwarfed Auguste by half a head and no matter Auguste’s own athletic build, it did not compare to the body in front of them. Should he wish it, the man that stood so close could lay destruction to the camp and they would all be useless to stop him. “This is the man you have so much interest in? I worry about you sometimes, Laurent.”

“It okay, he’s harmless,” the brothers shared a look a disbelief and a guilty shrug, “Probably.”

The man suddenly went still and then whipped around to face them. The wild man smiled brightly, a seemingly unconscious reaction, and Laurent had time to distractedly wonder where he had picked up the learned behaviour, before he was once again, smothered by a large, hard chest.

Auguste yelled and went for his gun, and Laurent tried to tell him that it was okay despite his lips being squished up against warm skin. He's not sure if Auguste heard him but he didn’t hear a gun go off, even when he ended up on his back with what was basically a hyperactive puppy squirming all over him. Laurent distantly thought, scent marking, before registering that the camp had definitely heard Auguste’s yell and come to investigate.

The wild man seems fascinated by the hair that’s come loose from his braid and tangles the strands in his fingers. He then tugged at Laurent’s ears and tried to put his fingers in Laurent’s mouth which earned him pursed lips and a warning glare. He seemed to understand but left his fingers resting at Laurents bottom lip, as if he was testing what he was and wasn’t allowed to do.

Laurent looks up in time to see Pallas push Lazars gun down from where it’s aimed at them, both of them in an unfortunate state of undress that he would rather not contemplate. Laurent hoped that Aimeric was too busy bending over for Jord right now to become a hindrance again.

Laurent quickly shut his eyes when the mans exploring crept back up his face, large hands cradling from chin to temple. Ever so softly, thumbs traced over his eyelashes, once, twice; Laurent tried not to shiver at being touched so gently by someone so formidable.

He opened his eyes again when the stroking stopped and he heard his brother laugh, shakily. Everyone had stopped a safe distance away, looking terrified by the new development but no one had aimed a gun at them, at least. The man atop him seemed to realise at the same time that they were not alone and his posture changed dramatically, hovering over Laurent in a defensive position. Laurent dearly hoped he wasn’t blushing but he could hardly think with all of… that hovering inches above him. It almost felt even more overwhelming than when he was pressed snuggly against the other man’s body. Probably because he could see more of it from this position.

Laurent froze as the man locked eyes with the figure closest to them- Auguste- and slowly licked up Laurent’s jaw. Laurent tried not to squeak at the unexpected warm, wet tongue on his skin and Auguste looked half insufferably amused and half wanting to defend his brothers honour.

Enough was enough.

“Off, off, off,” Laurent beat ineffectively at his chest until he sat up, still straddling his thighs. Laurent tried not to look down at what exactly sat in his lap. The other man pouted, looking affronted that Laurent would not want his protection. Laurent leaned up on his elbows, glaring back.

“Hmm, I wonder why he’s acting like that?” Auguste said, trying to smother another laugh.

Laurent flushed again and scowled. Auguste knew as well as he did what this behaviour meant. He was just teasing, that way he relished to do in most other aspects of Laurent’s life.

Nikandros stood off to the side, a man who faced down venomous snakes and stampeding elephants, looking like he’d seen a ghost. “You obviously know something. Out with it,” Laurent tried to sound authoritative as possible with a two hundred pound man sitting on his lap.

Said man shuffle forward and grazed his lips against the curve of Laurents ear, whining low in his throat, as if in apology. Laurent couldn’t suppress the shiver this time.

Pallas and Nikandros shared a look. Nikandros swallowed, twice. His voice still came out like sandpaper, “Damianos?”

The man in Laurent’s lap stiffened.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one took a bit of a sad turn but I think you might enjoy crying with me  
> Enjoy

“Damianos?”

The man in Laurent’s lap stiffened and looked up, eyes hazy with partial recognition. He opened his mouth as if to reply but all that came out was a rusty broken noise. Laurent stemmed the urge to try and comfort the man.

Nikandros dared a step closer, “Damianos. It’s me, Nikandros. Do you remember me?” Nikandros reached out a hand towards them, fingers trembling.

Damianos shrank back into Laurent’s side, his weight almost toppling them over.

Laurent frowned, “Damianos? You know this man?”

Pallas had become so pale by now that he was becoming a similar shade to Lazar, who was holding his hand tightly, balancing on the tips of his toes ready for flight. “He was a part of our tribe. His father was the chief,” Pallas whispered, the sound carrying in the silence.

Nikandros saw the confusion on Laurent’s face and clarified, “He would be our leader. In your world, a King.”

“What’s he doing running around the jungle naked, then? Some kind of initiation ritual?” Auguste asked, more politely phrased than what Laurent was inclined.

Nikandros slowly shook his head, “He went missing in a hunting parting with his father and brother, Kastor. Kastor came back, alone, telling us that they had been attacked by a tiger. That the Chief and the heir were dead.”

Damianos had moved further behind Laurent’s body, trying to make his enormous body small, as if to hide from Nikandros’ words. Laurent wrapped a hand around his, feeling silly for trying to comfort such a formidable man but fingers squeezed back tightly. Laurent glared at Nikandros, “How convenient for him. And did you check this for yourselves?”

Nikandros scowled at him but Laurent could tell that even he doubted this to be true, “They found the chief’s body, slashed with what could’ve be claws. And Damianos was not there. We had assumed that he was taken to be-” eaten, Nikandros would not say, not with big brown eyes staring at him like he almost understood what was being said but not quite.

Pallas spoke up, “We could not do anything, despite our beliefs. Such words without proof would mean death. Kastor is not a forgiving leader.”

“Why do you think this is he?” Laurent asked, though the evidence was damning.

“Other tribes would visit us and bring with them tales of a man who was like animal. Who could swim as fast as fish, swing through the trees like monkeys and had the strength of a rhino. A man who had become part of a gorilla family,” Nikandros rubbed a hand tiredly over his face, “Of course, we hardly dared hope, it had been years… but the next night Chief Kastor forbid anyone to speak of it. Which was more telling than the myth of an animal man in the jungle.”

Auguste had more kindness for them, judging by Laurent’s clenched jaw and what seemed like a reverse of their position, Laurent now kneeling protectively over the wild man. “Perhaps you should all go get breakfast,” Auguste told the group at large. Everyone one but Auguste, Nikandros, Laurent and Damianos, walked back to the campfire, grumbling about being felt out of the excitement. Laurent heard Aimeric mutter “giant animal” under his breath.

“It’s impossible for someone to survive out there by themselves,” Laurent snapped, but knew his argument was useless because the proof was currently against his back, holding his hand and tugging gently on his braid. He doubted Damianos realised he was doing so, just unconsciously seeking comfort. “How old was he when he went missing?”

Nikandros watched Damianos with something like hope in his eyes, “Twelve.”

“And how old is he now?” Auguste asked, sizing up his large body, plastered against his brothers slight figure.

Nikandros’ eyes flickered away for a brief second, “Twenty five.”

Thirteen years. Laurent looked to the man staring at them with part understanding he was being talked about, part confusion to what was being said. Nikandros was still looking at Damianos like a life line.

“That's more than half his life,” Laurent snapped, frowning when Damianos shrank back at his tone. He stroked his thumb over their joined hands. “I hope you aren’t looking for this man to be your saviour when you abandoned him as a child. He can’t even talk, much less lead.”

“Laurent,” Auguste admonished and Laurent remembered his previous thoughts on Aimeric being stupid to insult their guides. He found he didn’t care.

“That’s not fair,” Nikandros snapped back, “I was a child as well. Don’t imply I don’t care for him. He was like a brother to me.”

“I should hope not, or else you might leave him to be eaten by a passing creature as well,” Laurent twisted the knife, “Or perhaps you conspired with Kastor. You are rather high up in the tribe now are you?’

“Laurent!” Auguste tried to reason with him to no avail.  
“That’s not true! I loved him and I mourned him!” Nikandros shouted, tears in his eyes, “What was I to do? Be forsaken by my people, looking for a myth when I thought my brother had been dead for years?”

“Yes!” Laurent hadn’t been this angry since his Uncle stopped deigning to feed him when he started growing the hair of a man, “That’s exactly what I would have done if it had been Auguste. If there was even the slightest chance he was out there scared and alone, even if I could not give him more than just myself, I would do it! He’d been betrayed by his family and left to die…” Laurent trailed off at the look of understanding that graced Auguste’s face.

Nikandros looked down, shamefaced and a tear fell on the grass. “You’re right,” he looked back up at Damianos and said with a broken voice, “I am sorry, Exalted. I failed you. I’m so sorry, Damen.”

Laurent clenched his jaw and felt a tinge of regret. Usually being right felt better.

Damianos reached out and touched the back of his hand to Nikandros’ shoulder, cheek, forehead. Gorillas behaviour for familial affection. Nikandros leaned into it so much he almost tipped over.

Damianos made an almost barking sound and Nikandros flinched at the reminder of his mistakes. Then, “Nik?”

Laurent and Auguste looked to each other in surprise. Nikandros nodded frantically, “Yes, yes, I’m Nik! You remember me?”

Damianos frowned at the words coming too quickly out of his mouth. He simply repeated, “Nik?”

It seemed to be enough for Nikandros who launched himself into the other man’s arms, heedless of the lack of dress and sobbed. Damianos frowned again at the display but pressed their foreheads together and hummed, too disjointed to be a lullaby, but meant for comfort anyway.

Auguste and Laurent made to leave to give them privacy for such an emotional reunion, but before Laurent turned, Damianos caught his eye and smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I hope you enjoyed reading.  
> I'm actually considering doing another Captive Prince fic, set two years after Kings Rising about Aimeric, Nicaise and Auguste coming back to life as a reward from the gods for uniting the kingdoms again. This is bc I'm trash who cannot deal with character deaths and refuse to let things go haha.  
> If you'd be interested in reading about Niciase working through his pre death trauma, Aimeric getting his happy ending with Jord and Laurent coming clean with Auguste about all the shit that went down after his death, let me know in the comments :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You may want some tissues for this, I gave myself a headache with all the feels in this chapter. There is also reference to Laurent's past so please use caution, if this should trigger you in any way.

It was to no surprise that Nikandros and Pallas monopolised Damianos for the rest of the day, welcoming back their heir of the Akielon tribe as if they had never given up on him. From what Laurent gleaned from the corner of his eye, and perhaps some eavesdropping, they were trying to assess Damianos’ language skills after such a time away from humanity.

Laurent also saw them try to stop the wild man from dropping into a defencive crouch whenever startled. It made Laurent seethe. He was, Laurent thought, entitled to have such defence mechanisms after what he’d been through. When one has had to fight to survive, they will rely on old counterattacks they’ve used in the past, despite whatever differences the new situation has. It was much like Laurent’s caustic tongue when someone touched him without warning; it was no good in a fight but usually insulted the person enough to want to be far away from him. Usually.

So when he happened upon them hurrying Damianos out of the crouch he’d sprung into after hearing a gun go off, Laurent wanted to scold them; “You cannot take away a man’s only defence or you leave him with nothing. Has he not already lost enough?” The nerve of them to be embarrassed for him.

Yet he could not find the reason he cared so much about it and so instead made back to his tent, shoulders stiff with irritation. He spent the rest of his day alone, testing his specimens for toxicity.

It was, however, quite the surprise when Auguste stumbled into his tent as he readied to go out to the campfire and eat with the others. It was something he usually did not do, preferring to eat alone with a book, but he thought the change of setting may be a nice. It had absolutely nothing to do with the man still wandering around, rediscovering humanity.

Even if it was, Laurent thought it was perfectly natural to be curious to see how the man was adjusting.

“What is it, brother? I was just about to join you for dinner outside,” Laurent finished up the laces of his over coat and pressed a few flyaway strands back down to his head. Every time he made contact with Damianos, his hair always seemed worse for wear.

“Do you hate me?” came the reply.

“What?” Laurent turned and watched his brother, who was unsteadily make his way closer to him. He was obviously very drunk, walking like a newborn foal and slurring a little as he asked the strange question. Laurent frowned. It was unlike Auguste to drink this early in the evening and even stranger to let himself be this inhibited whilst staying in a jungle full of reasons to stay light on your feet. “What are you on about?”

“No, of course that’s a stupid question,” Auguste hung his head, voice thick with emotion, “Of course you hate me.”

“What? Auguste, why would I hate you? You’re the one person I can tolerate,” Laurent was lost. He’d never seen his brother in such a state. Usually Laurent was the one to swing wildly from emotion to emotion, Auguste being his steady rock to cling to.

“Because I left you,” Auguste was now close enough for Laurent to smell the red wine on his breath and his stomach curdled at the memories it brought with it. “I abandoned you! You never would have done that to me! I’m sorry, Lo-Lo. I’m really sorry.”

“What are you talking about?” Laurent could barely concentrate, his mind flashing to a wrinkled hand pressing a cup to his lips, smelling the wine in his nose and the sour in his mouth.

“You said out there, with Nikandros,” Auguste butchered the man’s name in this state, “that you were scared and alone, like that wild man was… that you were betrayed and left…” Auguste trailed off, looking at Laurent with actual tears on his cheeks. Laurent had never seen his brother cry before.

“I never said that. I was talking about Kastor killing his father and forcing a twelve year old boy into the jungle, when the more humane thing to do would be kill him himself,” Laurent took a step away, tried to find some untainted air, “Better death by a blade the to be eaten alive.”

“No, no, no. I know you, Laurent. You were angry like it was personal. You’re angry at me and that’s okay because I left you and I shouldn’t have, it was selfish and you got so hurt by it, I remember you cried when I left like you knew what was going to happen-”

“I cried because I was a little boy who wanted you all to myself,” Laurent sternly cut off Auguste’s quickly disintegrating rant. “It is not your fault. You were not my guardian. Uncle was. And he was the one to betray my trust.”

Auguste wasn’t to be reasoned with though. “But I was your protector,” he reached out to cup Laurent’s cheek the same time another breath of wine hit him and Laurent flinched back before he could stop himself.

Auguste’s face crumpled and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

He fled the tent before Laurent could pull himself together enough to tell him it was just an instinctive response to bad memories. He doubted it would help though. Laurent would reason with him in the morning when he’d sobered up.

Laurent sighed and unlaced his jacket again, deciding to have dinner alone after all.

 

Laurent had only just started on his meal of hard bread and suspicious looking meat when his tent flap opened again. Instead of half delirious blue eyes, the same shade as his own, warm dark brown eyes peeked through. Upon further inspection (Laurent certainly was not checking him out) someone had also managed to find some pants for their large guest.

Laurent half smiled, too taxed from the day to do much more. Damianos seemed to understand though, walking further into the tent with what seemed like a relieved smile. Laurent noticed that he had to stoop, not to put his head right through the roof of the canvas.

Laurent kicked out a chair beside himself and flicked his eyes toward it, an offering. Laurent made a point of not watching as he struggled to sit down, likely unused to the manmade object, and instead busied himself with dividing his food into halves and setting the plate between them.  
Damianos watched and smiled at Laurent in thanks.

He’d only taken a chunk of meat by the fingers before freezing, staring at Laurent in the corner of his eye like he was expecting reprimand.

Laurent sighed through his nose. Those idiots outside had probably drilled so much etiquette into him today that Damianos was doubting the instincts he had been hard pressed to learn for the past thirteen years. The Akielon etiquette was almost savagery compared to the strict rules of a “gentleman” that Veretians were supposed to adhere to, yet wildly refined for whatever Damianos was doing in the jungle all this time. They didn’t seem to realise he couldn’t just reset back to where he was before he was as a boy. The fact was that he was a man now and to have learnt what it took to survive that long by himself, that was never going to fade away.

The fact that he wasn’t like rest of them didn’t make him wrong, just someone with wildly different experiences.

Laurent could respect that.

When Damianos went to put down his meat, Laurent pushed his knife and fork away with a clatter, rolled up his sleeves and began to eat the rest of his meal with his fingers.

Laurent couldn’t remember the last time he’d done this, if he’d ever been allowed. It didn’t matter though, the way Damianos’ shoulders relaxed in a way they hadn’t been since he came into the camp.

“Damen,” Damianos pointed to his muscle bound and scarred chest. He said it uncertainly, as if he barely remembered.

“You want me to call you Damen?” at Damianos’ small smile when he repeated the name, he nodded. Damen copied the movement. Laurent pointed to himself, “Laurent.”

Damen nodded again like he understood, but didn’t trust that he could say it himself. That was okay.

They finished their meal in silence.

The world had truly gone crazy today. Ever stoic Nikandros sobbing, fighting with his brother and a gentle wild man looking for soliste in a cold-hearted bitch’s rooms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say a big thanks to everyone that comments, they always make me smile and help with the writers block xx


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This ones a short one but I'm pretty happy with it, if I do say so myself :)

After Laurent and Damen had finished their shared dinner the night before, Damen had simply risen, wrapped the length of Laurent’s braid around his hand and brushed what was not quite a kiss against his temple down to his cheek. Then he’d left, without another sound. Where he went, Laurent couldn’t fathom but knew that by now the man could take care of himself.

Laurent now lay sprawled in bed watching the canvas of the tent light up as the sun rose and his finger tips traced along the path that his lips had taken. He idly wondered by it didn’t make his skin crawl but instead made him feel…

Laurent quickly shut down that train of thought and decided that he should best check on his brother who would be the recipient of a horrid hangover by now. Grabbing a skein of water, Laurent quietly headed over to his tent, praying he wouldn’t remember the conversation last night so Laurent wouldn’t have to rehash it.

What greeted Laurent was a sorry sight. Auguste was sitting on the small portable bed with his head hanging between his knees, likely battling nausea or the sun, or both.

He looked up when Laurent sighed and rolled his eyes at the pitiful sight. The look in his eyes told Laurent he very much remembered.

“I’m sorry, Lo-Lo, I know you hate being around me when I’m drunk. I shouldn’t have done that and dredged up all the past again when you’ve been doing so well,” Auguste immediately blurted out. Laurent stayed silent and Auguste continued, “It’s just that you and Damianos have many similarities, like being hurt by your own family, and you got so angry yesterday on his behalf, angry at Nikandros, and I just-”

“-I wasn’t that mad-”

“-No, you’re cheeks got all red like they do when you’re furious-” Laurent tried not to roll his eyes again, “-and then I knew that you really were mad at me as well. I failed you as well… and I’m sorry, Lo, I’m so sorry I left you.”

It occurred to Laurent that perhaps this wasn’t a drunken spur of the moment rant made in the night but rather a weight Auguste had been carrying for years.

“May I speak now?” Laurent asked, answered by a reluctant nod. Laurent handed his brother the skein of water, crouched down in front of him and touched the back of his hand, a show of affection only for his brother, “I wasn’t angry at Nikandros because he was like you, I was angry because he wasn’t. Damen was betrayed by family he should’ve been able to trust like I was, yes. But I had you. If I hadn’t had you, if you’d died alongside our parents or chosen to ignore my incoherent letter-” at that Auguste made a hurt sound, “-I don’t know… I don’t know the man I’d be today but it wouldn’t be a good one. I’d be hateful, spiteful, I’d want to hurt everyone in my path and, most of all, I’d want to hurt myself. And you know how good I am at that.

“But you came for me, I still don’t know how you travelled so quickly across the country, and picked me up like a child and carried me out of that horrible place. You punched Uncle in the face but asked me how I wanted to deal with it and respected my wishes. You organised for this entire reckless operation because you knew it would make me feel better if I was doing something, spending the inheritance money on me without a thought.

“But mostly it was how you never blamed me, for letting him do the things he did to me for years, and how, not once, did you look at me like I wasn’t your little brother anymore,” Laurent was blinking a lot now but he most certainly not crying, that’s not what men did. “You saved me from Uncle and, afterwards, you saved me from myself. If I was upset yesterday it was because Damen deserves the same unconditional love and he’s spent thirteen years without it. Okay?”

“Oh,” Auguste said and burst into tears.

“Oh, for god’s sakes, what now?” Laurent couldn’t understand how Auguste was so popular with the fairer sex when he had zero control over his emotions.

Auguste managed to get a handle of himself and embarrassedly wiped away tears with the backs of his hands as Laurent sat beside him. “No, no,” Auguste said, in a steadier voice, “That’s just really sweet. I didn’t know you felt that way. You never speak about what’s going on in your heart.”

“Well, I hope you don’t expect it ever again. That was exhausting,” Laurent sniped, hiding his own embarrassment.

Auguste laughed.

“Hey,” Laurent bumped his shoulder to his older brother’s, “Next time you feel that way just say something. You don't need to get shit faced for it, you’re terrible to argue with when you aren’t even listening.”

Auguste sheepishly nodded. Then, “So… Damen. Are you going to be the one who loves him unconditionally?”

Laurent shoved him off the bed.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys appreciate this bc ive read up on animal behaviour in mates for this fic and there are somethings you just cannot unsee. did anyone know that certain male beetles will hold down a female beetle in water, allowing them up for air only so often that they can not die. then once the female has been too exhausted to run away, the male mates with it? bc now i do know this and i truly wish i didnt

It had been five days since Damen arrived and it seemed that he would become a regular visitor. Every day Laurent woke to find Damen already at the camp, fluttering around the place, picking up objects seemingly at random to investigate and muttering words Nikandros was reteaching him under his breath. Whenever Pallas or Nikandros weren’t busy securing the campsite or guarding Laurent and Auguste when they went out to look for samples, they’d sit Damen down and painstakingly teach him words as if he were a child. By the way Damen seemed to tune them out most of the time, Laurent suspected Damen already remembered most words from his childhood but had lost the ability to pronounce the language after more than a decade of alternate use.

Either that or he truly didn’t care to be re-acclimated with the rest of the tribe. Laurent wouldn’t blame him.

To fill his own time, Laurent would conduct his science experiments on the land for manmade poison and search for proof of the dwindling population in native animals. This was what he was here for, Laurent reminded himself whenever he caught himself tracking Damen across the camp with his eyes. Not to obsess over mysterious wild men, no matter how attractive or gentle.

This wasn’t to say that Damen left Laurent alone.

No, Laurent was now accustomed to being constantly taken unawares by soft tugs on his braid, a slow slide of a palm down his back, a shoulder nudged into his own and sometimes even a short press of forehead to forehead that never failed to make Laurent blush. They were always touches that left Laurent momentarily breathless and forgetful of whatever he’d previously been doing or saying. To Damen though, it seemed something he was barely aware he was doing it at all, the way Auguste might pat Laurent on the shoulder as he walked past, affectionate but absent minded.

The most memorable time was when Laurent had been arguing with Auguste and Lazar about the best time to leave for samples the next day (it was at first light, Auguste and Lazar were just being lazy). Laurent was just seconds away from an eye tick, to his brothers apparent amusement, when Damen had slinked an arm around his waist, crowded against his back and sucked his earlobe into a hot, wet mouth.

Laurent had stuttered so hard on what he was saying that he almost bit his tongue, and desperately tried to keep his eyes from rolling into the back of his head. Then, just as quickly as Damen had come, he left, before Laurent was completely steady on his feet.

Auguste had laughed for such a long time Laurent eventually gave up trying to reason with him about the time they were to set out the next day. That is, after Laurent had collected himself enough to speak at all.

“I don’t get it,” Lazar said that night, when Laurent had come to retrieve food to eat in his tent. He had started to take double his usual serving to comply with the company he’d had of late. Lazar continued despite Laurent lack of interest in what he had to say- he’d never let it stop him before, “The other day you threatened to have me whipped for almost bumping into you. Almost. I didn’t even touch you and yet you let that hulking beast rub all over you like it’s nothing.”

Jeers and foul insults regarding Laurent and Damen’s apparent sex life immediately sprouted to life. Pallas elbowed Lazar in the ribs and by the guilty frown he was wearing Lazar hadn’t intended for that to happen.

“Enough, enough!” Auguste snapped at the more rowdy ones, who were imagining out loud what kind of sex positions Damen would have Laurent in to “finally make the ice bitch lose his sharp tongue”. Laurent noted that they were ones that Laurent had personally turned down and who knew exactly how sharp Laurent could be.

When it finally quietened down and everyone turned to Laurent expectantly, Laurent countered primly, “Perhaps I like him better because he doesn’t run his mouth like you lot do.”

Laurent turned back to his tent where he knew that Damen was already waiting, the silence behind him only broken by Auguste’s amused snort. Considering the lack of sincere barb in his retort, Laurent could only imagine that he’d shocked them into silence by admitting that he liked anyone at all.

 

Auguste brought it up again a few days later, after Laurent had suffered through a searing brand of heat when Damen had squeezed the nape of his neck with an insufferably large hand as he walked past.

“I think it’s his way of calming you down,” Auguste commented, saddling up to Laurent’s makeshift lab bench.

“What?” Laurent asked distractedly, as he desperately tried remembering what he’d been frustrated about in the results he’d been taking.

“Damen,” Auguste prompted, “You know the random bouts of him invading your personal space? It seems to happen whenever you’re getting riled up.”

“That is ridiculous,” he snapped and, as if purely to prove him wrong, Damen sauntered past again, grazing a hand from one shoulder to another. Laurent held in a shiver and scowled at Auguste’s knowing look.

 

This, of course, would need to be proven or disproven, Laurent had thought that night. It was only what a good scientist would do, conducting an experiment to test how much he could get Damen to touch him throughout the day. For science.

And naturally the experimented had to be repeated of over the course of the next few days to rule out variables.

The results over the next few days were:

-most of the camp members actively avoiding Laurent and his, even more than usual, volatile temper. Laurent didn’t mind this new development.

-his older brother being insufferably amused by Laurent’s “sneaky flirting”.

-at one point, when Laurent was truly cranky at news of his Uncle’s new developments, being hauled into Damen’s lap where he was sitting beside Laurent at his desk and held so tightly he could barely lift his head to see Auguste hovering in the background, unsure if he should try to disengage his little brother from the arm’s of the wild man. Damen’s arms tightened even more everytime Laurent tensed until he was forced to relax or be squished like a pancake. After what seemed like forever Damen released him with a single hand tracing down the length of his spine. Laurent went back to conversing with Auguste as if it had never happened but could not deny feeling more at ease than he did ten minutes prior.

-Laurent admitted to himself, and only himself, that he didn’t mind Damen’s touch that much after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank you guys for your comments, they have my smiling at my phone to the point where my family think I have a secret boyfriend or girlfriend XD if only I was that cool


	8. Note

Hi all

Sorry, it's been while since I've updated, I've been a bit swept up with a new fic I'm working on.

If you'd be interested in seeing the Capri gang in a mental health hospital, come check out my AU The de Veres, I think you'll like it. (Well, I hope you'll like it)

Just wanted to tell my ever faithful readers that I WILL come back to this fic in a week or two and I hope you guys stick around because I love to see your reactions every chapter :D

See you soon xxx

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys  
> Let me know what you thought and if you think I should include anything in coming chapters. I love requests!


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